Plots from creative depression

My dear Cossack! You are my fate, sent me to live and love, for procreation of our glorious. Then the last time you make love to me. The word was terse, indifferent glance, it low-key and vague. Remember a month a full and clear stars. And the singing of the Nightingale who called us into the wilds of protected oak groves, on green hills. We flew with you on the wings of dreams, along with the swallows and storks. We climbed over the clouds, and below us was waiting for the blooming land, meadows, rivers, lakes and a riot of herbs, etc crazy passions. Remember, love, those sweet and unforgettable moments. Come back to me. I give you the hunger of my heart and feelings, a passion of nature, the fire of my work and the blood and the magma kisses. Don’t forget: we compatible astrologically and psychologically. Our parents gave birth to each other. My heart “your heart. My hands – your hands. my soul and your soul is the ocean sweet, crazy and noble feelings. We vowed to study, live and work in the sweat of his brow for his free land. To be sincere, honest, pure, to inherit the highest virtues of our nation. I made you a healing potion at sunrise . To help you stay healthy and vigorous, full of energy and great men of zeal. Consume salad of asparagus and sainfoin, talaban and pulmonaria officinalis. And kiselyk from the tubers of the plant kind of cute. But I don’t want she was two-folded. Don’t love two. Love Lyubka “single sheet”. Me, my best beloved. Love – me – don’t leave!

You will love me not, song,

You’ll love me, .not for the beauty,

You’ll love me for iron Devotion to the Ukrainian people.

And when I soul wander into living your life,

You’ll love me for the song And for the beauty – which are not.

Favorite! Calling us to a silver night, the full moon. We are called the enchantments of life, fury, young and inspired by the blood. I love you, honey! Big and true love. I am sincere and loyal. You’re the only one. For life. For a thousand years. While the sun shines and the moon rises. I am yours and you’re mine! The best, the bravest, the most beautiful.

You are my joy, my peace, my hope!

On the bed, Cossack, on the bed

I put the Cup of honey to ceiling. Oh you, my darling. And drink Only of me, young.

NOT Pekinese.

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